Around We Go
by HawkeyeLover
Summary: Mike Schmidt went through five nights of hell, but it's finally over. Or so he thinks. When Freddy's Fazbear's Pizza has a grand reopening, they go all out, even adding new animatronics. But they're not what they seem. Now Mike has his life turned upside down again when the old crew comes to him of all people for help. Can he trust them? Can they work together?(More info in Chap 2)
1. Chapter 1

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thump._

The loud noises in the hallway forced Mike out of his daze as he dove to the red button on the wall. He flinched at the sound of the purple bunny animatronic slamming itself into the door, over and over and over…

_BANG. BANG. BANG._

A few moments passed.

It was quiet now.

_It is safe? I better check the cameras. _Mike thought. He shakily pulled himself from his slumped position against the steel door to plop himself in his swivel chair and clicked away on his tablet. There was on 72% left, and it was only one a.m. He groaned. "Alright," the brunette muttered, "let's see where you went, Bastard the Bunny."

Mike tapped away, checking the west hall, where Bonnie had walked through to get to his left door. Then the supply closet where Chica stared eerily at the camera, making strange glitch motions, tilting her head to the right and left at an unnatural speed. One might even think it was the camera messing up. . . Onto Pirate Cove, where glowing eyes peeked out from the darkness, the dirty, worn red curtains opened just a tad. A sign was placed in front.

_It's ME-_

Wait.

He quickly went back. _Sorry! Out of order._

He stared. The exhausted security guard then blinked and vigorously shook his head. He would so kill for a cup of coffee right now. . .

Mike moved on to the dining room, nothing of interest there. He lastly flicked to the stage, where only Freddy remained. Freddy the Bear was always the last one the stage. Mike frowned, then moved on to the restrooms. The green-eyed man stood once to open the left door, which he had so frantically shut.

It slid up and out of sight, leaving him exposed once more. A voice cooed in the darkness.

"_It's me, Michael…"_

Mike went stiff as a board in his chair, panicked eyes glancing everywhere. "Who's there?" He called. The twenty-two year old felt kind of silly talking to nothing, but he knew he hadn't imagined that voice. _Hee-hee-hee._

A surge of panic rose up in him and Mike rushed to shut both doors, low battery be damned. Beads of sweat trickled down his temple and down side of his neck. It disappeared into his shirt collar and he twitched.

He glanced down at the tablet again and his green eyes widened. 60%. 59. 58. 57. No, no, no! What's happening?

40%. 30. 20. . .

Dread make his heart sink to his stomach and he felt sick. How was the power going so quickly?! What time was it?

"_One_? How the hell is it still one?" He shouted angrily at the tablet, shaking it. As if that would force the answers he wanted out of it.

_Vwoooooooosh._

Mike froze. The doors went up. The lights went out, plunging him into darkness. The screen of his tablet went black. Then suddenly, white words flashed across it, switching between two phrases every few seconds. Both just as terrifying.

_Look up._

_It's me._

_Look up._

Anxiety made his palms sweaty and the back of his neck itched. Slowly he forced his gaze up.

His neck cracked. Fear curled in his gut.

Mike knew he shouldn't have. But the temptation was so strong. Too strong for him to resist.

In front of him was a slumped Freddy Fazbear costume. He presumed it was empty due to its strange slouched position, as if it just didn't have the strength to sit up straight. But the head somehow managed to lock its empty void of a gaze with Mike's own.

It wasn't like the others. He could tell. There was no pinprick of white in the middle of those black holes for eyes. There was _nothing._ Nothing. . .

A horribly awful screech pierced the air, severing the silence with its grating quality.

It was horrifyingly familiar, but so foreign at the same time. The other screams, they had a-an _electronic _undertone. That was it. But this…

This was the scream of a child.

"Ahh!" Mike exclaimed as he shot up out of bed. His heart raced and he felt light-headed. Oh. "Oh thank god." He murmured. "It was just another nightmare."

He'd been having these for a while now, ever since he completed his five nights at the pizzeria. The boss had offered him the chance to come back the next week. As if.

But it was okay because everything was over now. He would never have to see those stupid crazy robots, never have to work there again.

Because it was over.

It _was _over. . .

Right?

**A/N: Hey there! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. It went a little slower than I anticipated but that's alright. I don't like to rush things, so this story will probably be a slow developing one. Please tell me what you think! Like it? Hate it?** **Let me know in a review! But I beg of you to be gentle. This **_**is **_**my first story. If you guys like it, I'll work on the next chapter :) Byeee!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi again everyone! Thanks so much to all who reviewed, followed and added this story to their favorites—it means so much. I'll try my hardest to update at least once or twice every one or two weeks. I realized my paragraphs were a little short in the first chapter so I tried to remedy that in this chapter. It suddenly came to me that I'd completely forgotten to explain a few things! Okay, 1. The animatronics from FNAF 2 will be in this story, but I'm taking the thing as a sequel b/c this story came to me before it was revealed that it was a prequel. 2. It may be a while, but Freddy and the gang will be showing up, so try to hang in there. 3. This story is rated T b/c of cursing and possibly a bit of blood. And 4. I forgot to do the disclaimer! *ahem***

**Disclaimer: I do not own Freddy, or anyone else in this story but the idea. The characters all belong to good ol' Scotty. Well, except for OCs. Ok wow this author's note is long, I think I'll stop now. See you at the bottom! **

_But it was okay because everything was over now. He would never have to see those stupid crazy robots, never have to work there again._

_Because it was over._

_It _was_ over. . ._

_Right?_

Mike sighed heavily, bracing his arms on the simple, round table in front of him. A lone cup of coffee and this morning's newspaper, yet to be read, sat before him. He buried the heels of his palms into his eyes, attempting to rub the sleep out of them. Turns out he had woken up at three in the morning. It was four now.

He had been trying to search for a new job since he quit the graveyard shift, checking the paper for any openings every morning. As per usual, he skipped straight to the job offer section and began sifting through. _ Let's see . . . graphic designer? Nah, that's too boring. Janitor? That could be something. _He then spotted something below it. **Half shift night guard.** **Hours are midnight to six AM. **_Aaaaaaand never mind. _A familiar ringtone brought him out of his thoughts. Shaking his head in disappointment, he rose to go answer.

"So they're reopening, eh? Thought for sure they'd be toast after that whole bite incident," remarked a bald and burly looking man in overalls, Tom, as he loaded boxes into a warehouse.

"Yep," his friend replied, a skinny looking man, Gary, who looked as though a gust of wind would knock him over, "I hear that they're even adding new robots."

"These them?" Tom grunted, nodding to the crates. "They're heavy as fuck."

"Yessiree. Soon as they get the whole place set up, we'll be back to move 'em in. Let's hope this time they program 'em to _not _bite some other kid's head off. Yo, Murphy, that the last of 'em?" After receiving affirmation, both men wiped their palms on their jeans and headed back to an old blue pickup, where Murphy waited for them.

Suddenly, Gary froze, keys in hand. He tossed them onto the driver's seat, walking slowly to the wide door of the storage house, staring at it. The action went unnoticed by Tom and Murphy, both chatting away about last night's football game.

Gary fumbled for a ring of keys attached to one of his belt loops, and after sticking in the right one into the lock, crouched and lifted the door. He peeked his head in, scanning the expanse of the inside. . . "Hello?"

Receiving no response, he ventured further. It was already dark out, the soft light of the moon streamed through the small, few windows of the structure, giving the place an eerie look. He swallowed, daring to call out once more. A third time. And again, there was no reply. He tensed at the sound of a small clang near the back door, but he couldn't see what it was. Slowly, the man crept closer and closer and he swore up and down he could make out a slim, tall figure…

"Gary!"

The skinny man just about leapt right out of his skin, whirling around. He relaxed, recognizing the voice of Tom, and turned to the back wall once more. Nothing but boxes and bubble wrap. Perhaps it was just the light playing tricks on his mind, or the exhaustion of working long hours had finally gotten to him. "Gary, what the hell are you doin' back in 'ere? C'mon, let's go!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." With one last backwards glace, he returned to Tom's side, and together they pulled the thin metal door back down. It closed with an echoing slam. They climbed into the truck, and sped off, tires kicking up dust and bright headlights becoming smaller as they got farther away.

But inside the warehouse, a quiet melody played, bouncing off the walls.

_I've got no strings_

_To hold me down_

_To make me fret, to make me frown_

_I had strings_

_But now I'm free. . ._

By the sound of it, it seemed like a child singing freely, sweet and soft without a care in the world. But then, the voice suddenly turned demonic, low and growling and dark.

_**. . . There are no strings on me.**_

**A/N: And hello Chapter Two! That song is **_**I've got no Strings **_**by Pinocchio (I think), which I also do not own. I know it's kinda cheesy but after watching the Avengers Age of Ultron Trailer, I realized how perfect it was. So I've already updated twice this week which means no more until the next one :( But no worries, that just gives me time to plan out the rest of my story. Soooo, the chapter- Like it? Hate it? Something that needs to be fixed or changed? Got constructive criticism? Lemme know in a review! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Welcome to Chapter 3, everyone. Like always thanks so much to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed :) It means a lot!*commence fangirling* AND OMG OVER 1000 VIEWS WHAT THE FUDGE OKAY. And 20 followers, **_**wow **_**you guys are awesome.*fangirling over* I've ultimately decided that ONE update will(hopefully) occur every one or two weeks b/c I have a lot going on right now, like loads of projects, and midterms, (yayy). See you at the bottom. (Oh and um, bit of a warning, there's mentions and descriptions of PTSD. I don't really know if it's necessary but just in case.)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea and the OCs. All else belongs to good ol' Scotty.**

**~!~**

"Hello?" Mike asked gruffly. He blinked, cleared his throat and tried again. "Uh, hello?"

"_Hey, Mike. Just wanted to call to remind you to pick Sara and me up at the airport today. Unless you __**actually **__remembered." _His friend, Daniella, lightly teased.

"Of _course_," Mike replied sassily, with mild annoyance that quickly turned into sheepishness. "Um, what time again?"

Dani laughed triumphantly. "_I knew it. Three thirty. Oh, you mind picking up lunch? Sara and I are starving."_

"You mean you're starving."

"_Hey, a five and a half hour flight with shi-crappy airplane food is bound to make anyone hungry, Besides, I've been dying for Chinese. Please?" _Mike could practically see the pout on her face. He gave in, sighing.

"_Yessss_. _Oh, I gotta go, this lady's raggin' on me for being on my cell. See you at the airport. Remember, three thirty!" _Click.

The brunet snapped his flip phone shut and set it back down on the counter, and folded the newspaper back up to check the rest of the offers later. With the reoccurring nightmares, struggling to find a new job, and worrying about the rent, he'd completely forgotten all about picking up Daniella.

The two were good friends; they bonded over the strained relationship they had with their parents. Dani's mother had protested strongly against the notion of her daughter having a child at such an early age, something about "throwing her life away", and her father was indifferent. The girl in question was furious at such a response. They argued so much that eventually her mother cut herself off from her completely, and her dad didn't protest.

Mike had felt sorry for her, offered a shoulder to lean on, and a place to stay at until she got back on her feet for both herself and her daughter. He'd described to her his nightmarish job—staying up until six, the god-awful pay (not the insignificant part where kids animatronics came to life to kill him in the dead of night)-and it turned out she could relate. The young man sighed and headed to his shower. Really, it seemed that he was the one that needed dire help as of now…

He had done some research that consisted of "nightmares" "insomnia" "nightmares and flashbacks" and apparently, those things added up to something called PTSD.

"**PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, is a psychiatric disorder that can occur following the experience or witnessing of a life-threatening events such as military combat, natural disasters, terrorist incidents, serious accidents, or physical or sexual assault in adult or childhood.**

"**Nightmares that follow trauma often involve the same scary elements that were in the trauma. For example, someone who went through Hurricane Katrina may have dreams about high winds or floods. They may dream about trying to escape the waters or being in a shelter that does not feel safe. A survivor of a hold-up might have nightmares about the robber or about being held at gunpoint." – **** . **

To be honest, that made quite a bit of sense. He had survived five nights with crazy robots trying to stuff him in a suit, so then he had nightmares of dying that way. Well, not so much the one last night—those were one of the just plain creepy ones. And pretty mild, now that he thought about it. Really, it varied from night to night. Some were definitely more gruesome and vivid than others.

Mike closed his eyes and let the hot streams of water pour down his body, and allowed his dark thoughts about his daily troubles to go with them. He loved the shower. It was the one place where he could clear his mind and reflect on the important things he needed to do. Speaking of which. . . _Man I really need to find a job soon. I'm running out of savings to pay the rent. Carl's probably gonna be on my ass better than my pants will. _

The brunet reached out a pale hand and twisted the squeaky knobs shut, the other reached for a light green towel. He rubbed it all over his now wet and dark brown hair and shook his head, sending water droplets everywhere in the process. He then wrapped the damp towel around his waist and held it in place with one hand, carefully stepping to the door. He didn't want to slip.

A golden flash appeared in the corner of his eye. He backpedaled furiously to the fog-covered mirror, seeing a blurry golden shape- _heeheeheeITSMEITSME-_. He let out a yelp, skidding back and somehow miraculously not slipping and cracking his skull open on the tile. Mike waited a few moments pressed up against the peeling wallpaper, heart pounding. He hesitantly pried his eyelids open.

Aaaaand. . Nothing. Just his smoggy reflection.

Slowly, he lowered the defensive arm he had raised and used it to wipe the mirror clean. Just his plain self. He exhaled, long and loud and gripped either side of the cheap sink with both hands, knuckles white. He looked, well. . .

His once vibrant blue eyes-_blue eyes glowed in the darkness doo do doo do doo doo do doo_-were now dull with fatigue, pupils dilated from the earlier panic. Damp chestnut colored bangs hung in his face and the rest of it stuck up in unruly spikes. His normally fair skin was now white as a sheet, and dark shadows were smudged under his eyes. His lips looked bloodless and chapped. He chuckled wryly. "Well, don't I look fabulous?"

Mike sighed and looked away. He pushed himself up and away (keeping a watchful eye on the mirror) and walked back to his room, trying to forget about the hallucination.

He pulled on navy blue boxers, jeans, a grey t-shirt with faded black lettering, and his favorite All-Star high top red converse, rushing. The airport wasn't all that far, a ten minute drive with light traffic, but he still had to pick up lunch. Mike finally made it to his car (after stealthily avoiding Carl the Evil Landlord) and peeled out.

~!~

Mike tapped his foot on the floor and drummed his fingers on the armrests, earning unnoticed dirty looks. He stared at the opening where the arrivals came through and scanned the crowd for two familiar faces. He wasn't really a fan of crowded places, they made him feel claustrophobic-_two metal doors shutting him in go away so I can open the doors goawaygoawaygoaway_- and twitchy, hence the tapping and drumming. A little girl's cry of excitement broke him out of his thoughts.

"Mikey!" He looked up to see a little girl in a yellow dress run to him as fast as her little legs could carry her, her blonde pigtails bouncing with each step. He broke into a grin, spreading his arms, and she launched herself into them, her own short arms winding around his neck. "I missed you Uncle Mikey!"

"Sara", a new voice broke in, "What did I you tell about hugging weirdoes?" He frowned down at a raven-haired woman smiling at him, amusement in her green eyes.

"But she's not hugging you right now," Mike pretended to be confused. Sara giggled in his ear, and clamped a small hand over her mouth.

"Yeah, real funny Schmidt." She deadpanned, but leaned forward to give him a friendly peck on the cheek. "So you pick up lunch or what?"

"Yeah." He rolled his eyes and looked to Sara. "I think your mom's obsessed with food, kiddo."

"Hey!"

~!~

"So, you two fly all the way over to visit little ol' me or just to eat all my food?" Mike teased, grinning. He and Dani were curled up on the worn brown couch while Sara sat at the table with a coloring book, legs swinging.

"Well actually, both those reasons and something else." She smiled (nervously?). "Sara you wanna tell him?"

"Oh yeah! Mikey, we're gonna get to see new Freddy and his friends!" Mike's blood went cold.

"W-what?"

"Yeah, they're opening real close by your place. It's been all over the papers-" Before she even finished Mike was scrambling off the couch to the table where the newspaper lay. He flipped it over, his hands trembling.

_FREDDY FAZBEAR'S FANTASTIC REOPENING! _

_Oh god no._

~!~

**A/N: Here's chapter three! Thanks Guest-or Neko Potato for the assist! I did put line breaks but for some reason they didn't show up :/ Hopefully they will this time. Ok so we're introducing some new characters. And don't worry, they kinda are a big part of the story, but they won't actually show up that much (maybe a few chapters) I just needed them for the plot. What do ya guys think about them? I could really use some input! So, overall, do you think it's going too slow? Do you want it to speed up? If you're unhappy with it I'm not gonna know unless you tell me, so...Anyway I'll see you next week! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey everyone, sorry I'm late. Finals have been driving me crazy and it's Christmastime and I got sick -_-(again—happens every December!) But, uh anyway new chapter, hope you enjoy! See you at the bottom. Disclaimer: I do not own FNAF or any of its characters, just the story. And OCs. All else belongs to good ol' Scotty.**

**~!~**

_Mike frowned as he flipped through the newspaper for the umpteenth time. He had been looking for a job for the longest time now, the bills had started to pile up, the stress was building and the urge to just . . . he glanced over his shoulder, where his stash had once been. _No, Mike. Stop. You're done, remember? _He sighed. He wasn't an alcoholic, he just . . . unkindly abused the substance every now and then. But he was__** not **__an alcoholic. There was a big difference between being addicted and binge drinking. The brunet leaned back farther in his chair and scanned though a few more jobs until he saw something that caught his eye. What's this?_

_**FREDDY FAZBEAR'S PIZZA**_

_**Family pizzeria looking for security guard to work the night shift. 12 am to 6 am.**_

_**Monitor cameras, ensure safety of equipment and animatronic characters. Not responsible for injury/ dismemberment. **_

_**$120 a week. To apply call 1-888-FAZ-FAZBEAR **_

_Hey, that wasn't so bad was it? Sure the pay was a little sketchy but maybe if he did a good job and stayed on the manager's good side that would change. He nodded to himself and reached for the phone, punching the numbers in. He took a deep breath and held the phone to his ear._

_Ringing. Ringing. Ringing still- oh wait. "Hello?" a female voice questioned._

"_Ah, yeah," Mike's voice cracked-_ wow, I'm off to a good start already-, "_I'm uh, calling to apply for the job-"_

"_I'm very sorry, sir, but the position for janitor has already been filled. Have a nice. . ."_

"_Wait!" Mike blurted. "I'm not, I don't want to sign up to be a janitor. I'm calling for the night guard shift."_

_There was silence on the other end. The faint sound of a swallow. Then, "From twelve am to six am?" For some reason the woman suddenly sounded slightly fearful. Mike nodded, mentally face palmed when he realize she couldn't actually see him nodding, and verbally answered. "Yeah. Er, if it hasn't already been filled yet."_

"_No, sir, it hasn't. If you could show up to the pizzeria today before midnight you've got the job." The woman's tone suddenly sounded clipped and flat, but Mike was too shocked to notice. He had the job? Just like that? "Yes, sir, you do." The blue-eyed man blinked when he realized he was talking aloud. _

"_Uh yeah, yeah, sure! Is," he glanced at the clock, "eleven thirty ok?"_

"_Yes. See you there . . .?" She trailed off._

"_Uh, Schmidt, Michael Schmidt, ma'am."_

"_Alright then." She hung up. Mike grinned, he couldn't believe it! That had been so easy. But wait. Maybe it was a little too easy. What if it was some kind of scam? What if he couldn't stand it? _C'mon, Mike. _He thought. _You're working at a kid's pizzeria, how bad could it be?

_~!~_

_Mike pulled into the littered parking lot. He stepped out of his worn car to gaze at the old building. A sign read "Freddy Fazbear's Pizza" in neon red letters. Underneath was "Where Fantasy and Fun Come to Life!" A few of the letters had been fizzled out, and others were flickering on and off. He slowly walked up to the doors, laid a hand on the handle. Man, he remembered coming here as a kid. His parents used to take him every Sunday until the bite of '87. The brunet shook his head and made his way inside._

"_Uh, hello?" Mike called, catching the attention of a young woman at the front desk, her dark hair in a bun. She opened her mouth to speak but a somewhat heavyset man came up from behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I've got this, Melanie. You should probably be heading home." For a few moments the two locked eyes and she seemed to glower at him before shutting off her computer, gathering her purse and brushing past them. The bell rang as she left._

"_Sorry about that, son. That woman can be a real pain sometimes," the man muttered the last part lowly._

"_Oh, it's fine." He replied awkwardly._

"_Anyway," the man grinned with yellow teeth, "You must be Mike, right? I'm the manager, Earl Jackson. Er, s'okay if I call ya that? Mike? Nah, course it is! You work for me now!"_

"_Uh. . ." Mike's hand was suddenly gripped in a firm hand shake and he grunted, repressing a wince as his shoulder was nearly pulled out of its socket. "Well, then it sure is good to meet you, Mike! You've been a godsend."_

"_Really?" Mike's brows shot to his hairline his voice rising a pitch with disbelief. _

"_Of course! Lemme admit to ya, son, this place has gone through some rough times," the manager swung his hands around as he spoke, "Work's been pretty hard to find and money's been stretching a bit thin." Well, that explained the pay. _

"_But maybe you can help pick things up a bit." They headed down a long hallway decorated with children's posters and grease stains. The lights flickered occasionally. Which definitely wasn't creepy. At all. "Now I now it may seem a bit spooky at night all by your lonesome," it seemed he picked up on Mike's thoughts, "but I assure you you'll be nice and safe in your security office!" The greasy man swept his arm in a wide and grand gesture, as if he wasn't presenting some small cruddy office. _

_It was definitely a bit tight, and hot. There was a swivel chair, a few small fans, and for whatever reason a creepy pink cupcake with two big eyes. More children's posters were haphazardly stapled to the wall, a poor attempt to bring some cheer to the office, but it only served to bring a chill down Mike's spine. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. _

"_Alrighty then, here's all you need to do. This red button here is for the door and the white is for the light-little rhyme there to help you remember- and it's the same for right over here. Well then I think that's. . ."_

"_Wait, whoa –what-what's the door for?" Mike stammered, trying to remember what the manager was rushing out of his mouth._

"_It's in case robbers break in, nothing to be worried about. Go on. Push it."_

_Mike reached out a hand and he yelped as a heavy gray door came rushing down with a heavy grating sound. He stumbled back, the thing had nearly crushed his foot! The door had to be at least five or six inches thick. Earl laughed, one hairy hand on his rotund belly. "Careful there, son. They're pretty heavy."_

"_Yeah, I noticed."_

"_Well then, we've got ten minutes before your shift starts, so you'd better get dressed." Mike suddenly had a bundle of blue shoved into his chest. _

_Earl clamped his hands on Mike's thin shoulders, spun him around, and pushed him out into the hall way, towards the bathrooms. "And try to be back __**before **__midnight. Best of luck to you, Mike!" He waved over his shoulder, car keys dangling in hand as he headed for the exit._

"_You're gonna need it." _

_~!~_

_Mike fiddled with the black tie around his neck. His uniform consisted of a light blue button up shirt with the gold nametag 'Mike' already attached to it, a ring of keys looped through his belt loop, a standard flashlight, and a cap that read SECURITY in white. At least he got to keep his jeans and converse. _

_The brunet glanced at the clock. 12:01 am. Oh yeah, he could do this._

_Piece of cake._

~!~

**A/N: Hey everyone, again sorry it's late. I made it a bit longer than it was to try and make up for it. And I **_**swear **_**the animatronics will be showing up **_**very **_**soon. I mean, I don't really count this one as the animatronics "showing up" but . . . Yeah. And I know I know this chap seemed cut off at the wrong place, and if you couldn't tell this was a flashback. But worry not there's a reason for everything. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and followed and favorited!( kind of repetitive but I'd feel like a dick if I didn't say it) I'll be responding to a few reviews from last chapter and a few from chapters before down here:**

**PastaandNutella: Yes, yes they did XD.**

**Casamora: Thank you for input, it's probably the first real piece of advice I've gotten and it was really helpful!**

**Milady17: I guess it's up to you ;)**

**Liamchip: yes, it was from Ultron, I mentioned it in the author's note. **

**I think that's all, have a Merry(belated) Christmas or Hanukah or Kwanza or whatever it is you celebrate and I hope you enjoy the rest of your winter break! Buh Byyye~ **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey everyone, so sorry, I wanted to update sooner but holidays and such-Oh and whaddaya guys think about changing the title of the story? And I know I was going to wait until Tuesday to update but you guys seemed so excited for the next chapter and I 'm going to have to go back to school ) so here! Enjoy :) (Sorry for any mistakes I make)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own FNAF or any of its characters, they belong to good ol' Scotty.**

**~!~**

"Mike?" A soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Mike, are you okay?"

"What? No, yeah I'm fine, I just, I. . ." The room suddenly felt a lot smaller. The walls seemed to be closing in, shrinking to roughly the size of Freddy Fazbear's Security Office. His heart raced.

A hand placed itself on his shoulder and he flinched. Luckily, the young woman didn't notice his small mental breakdown. "Look, I know it's kind of awkward since you quit and all and you've already done so much for Sara and me." Dani scratched the back of her head. She looked guilty. "I mean you don't have to, but it'd mean the world to Sara, because it's her birthday and she really wants you to be there and you know how it's been with her dad and all," she scowled a little, " . . . and, I. . ."

"Sure." The raven's head snapped up. "Yeah, I'll take you guys."

The words were pouring out of his mouth and he couldn't stop them. "R-really? Are you sure, Mike? If it's too much trouble, we can always just take her out for ice cream or something. . ."

Mike held firm, but he felt his eye twitch. "No, it's no trouble. Really Dani. If Sara wants it for her birthday then that's what's she going to get. Piece of cake."

The six year old cheered. "Thank you Uncle Mikey!" She ran up and hugged his legs tight, with a big grin. "We're gonna have a lot of fun! Aren't we?"

The brunet scooped her up smiled, but it felt tight. "We sure are, Sara."

~!~

**A few days later, Freddy's Fazbear's: 2:50 pm**

"Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to the new and updated _Freddy Fazbear's_!" A well-dressed man cried joyfully in to a mic, gesturing behind him. "Thank you so much all for coming to this place where fantasy and fun come to life. The ribbon will be cut today at approximately three pm, when the doors officially open, but until then I will be taking questions for anyone who has some."

"Mr. Grimes, over here!"

"Mr. Grimes, a minute?"

"Mr. Grimes!"

The man held his hands in a placating fashion. "Now, now one at a time. You first." He pointed at a young Asian woman.

She held out her own microphone. "Mr. Grimes, what can you tell us about these 'new' animatronics?"

"Well, you see, since the . . . _disappearance_ . . . of those poor children, we've decided to make the safety of our young guests top priority, with their entertainment coming in as a close second. A new facial recognition scanning feature had been added to the programming of each of the characters, even our original ones-I'd like to thank Grayson for this," he waved at a jumpsuit-clad man in the back, "With this, they have the criminal profile of every kidnapper, murderer and pedophile stored in their database, and will be able to recognize one if they take even one step past those doors. For added safety, the also have a file on any over eighteen who lives within a one mile radius, but those files aren't nearly as detailed or monitored. Just your basic information."

"But don't you think that's an invasion of privacy to residents who aren't brutal criminals?" A grey-clad blonde man questioned.

"Like I said," Mr. Grimes responded, grey eyes calm, "it is basic information. Their personal lives will not be delved into. And if anything, they shouldn't mind at all seeing as how it's for the safety of our young ones. If they have something to hide, isn't our responsibility to find out if it's something sinister?" There were murmurs of agreement, mostly from mothers and fathers in the crowd.

A dark-skinned man spoke up. "Referring back to the original animatronics, what will be happening to them with the new ones coming in?" The herd of reporters leaned in with recorders and writing pads in hand.

"Well, they will not be put into storage permanently if that's what you're asking. You see, those specific characters hold a very special place in my heart, and I'm sure many of you out there feel the same." Again, there were nods of agreement, a few fond smiles. "There is still discussion on what we're going to do with them, but I assure you, they'll be sticking around. Oh, wait, what's that?" Another man had come up onto stage and muttered something into his ear.

"Oh my, oh my!" He laughed, glancing at his wrist. "Three o' clock already! Well, then, I guess you know what that means!" The same man that had come up earlier handed Mr. Grimes a large pair of scissors.

"One, two, three!" With a great _SNIP _the red ribbon parted, people applauded, and cameras flashed.

~!~

Mike felt sick.

The trio had made it just in time to see the ribbon snap, the grand doors opening as parents and children alike swarmed in, chattering and cheering.

He stared after them. A good portion had already rushed to the stage, pointing. His gaze traveled up. There were long closed red curtains, with gold stars. The place was actually rather large, much larger than the last one. There was confetti and colorful streamers everywhere, and a little boy animatronic handing out balloons. There was a prize corner with stuffed animals and fun little trinkets and some sort of box peeked out from behind the counter. There was even a carousel. The floor was shiny and checker patterned and in some places there were pizza's attached to wall, of all things.

Oh, man, he could just feel another attack coming on.

" – sir." Mike snapped to attention.

"Sorry, what?" A bored looking young woman sighed, clearly exasperated. "Your hand, _sir._"

He quickly stuck it out, not wanting to annoy the woman further, swallowing his anxiety. Red numbers were stamped onto the back of his hand, along with Sara and Danielle.

"C'mon Mike, come on! Let's play a game before the show starts!" An excited Sara tugged his hand, pulling him along. Dani just grinned and shrugged helplessly.

They reached the Game Area and Mike pulled out his wallet to push a few bills into an employee's hand for a few cups full of tokens. They raced cars, had dance offs, rode the carousel (well, Sara did), and slowly, Mike was starting to forget his troubles. He was actually kind of having _fun. _And it was definitely worth coming back to see his best friend's daughter smile like that. Well, almost.

"_All boys and girls please report the dining area, the show will be starting soon, all boys and girls please report to the dining area."_

_Oh joy, _Mike thought.

~!~

The three had taken their seat in one of the play rooms, party hats and other goodies spread out on the table.

Mike strapped a pink hat on Sara's head and pretended the fuzz on top tickled his nose, making her giggle. They looked up as the PA spoke again:

"_Alright ladies and gentleman, Fazbear Entertainment is proud to present the Fred Fazbear Gang!" _

_Fred _Fazbear?

"_Bon Bon the Bunny!" _A very bright sky blue bunny animatronic stepped into the blue spotlight with grass green eyes, red bowtie, and a sleek guitar in hand. And . . . was he wearing _make- up_? It certainly looked like it. Bon Bon's lashes were long and dark with red circles on his cheeks, and his eyelids were purple. "Hey kids, are you ready to _rock_?" Bon Bon called out eagerly with a buck-toothed grin. The kids cheered in response.

"_Cheeks the Chicken!" _A slender yellow chicken animatronic(with pink _underwear_?) stepped up with a bib that read 'Let's Eat'! Cheeks held a platter in one hand which had a creepy looking pink cupcake on it. "Remember to buy some good 'ol Fazbear pizza, kiddies!" She sang.

The cupcake. It looked like the cupcake on the desk.

Mike abruptly stood, banging his knee and causing the table to rattle. He nearly knocked over his chair. He muttered some excuse about going to the bathroom ("must've been the sucky pizza or something") and quickly strode out, hands shoved in his pockets.

A _cupcake_. He was freaking out because of a fucking cupcake. _Thanks a lot you feathered freak_, Mike managed to quip bitterly in head amongst the panicky thoughts.

He stumbled a bit through the halls, twitchy and nervous, and praying to any deity out there with hopes that he wouldn't get lost. There were posters of the new gang on either side of him-_ poorly drawn children smiled at him from the walls- _and he walked faster. So fast he didn't look where he was going.

He reached the main hall and caught sight of the bathroom. He suddenly smacked into someone. "Uh, s-sorry!"

Mike looked up. It was a young man in a blue uniform, with messy brown hair and light blue eyes. His gaze was haunted, his mouth a crooked frown, making him look much older than he really was. Mike blinked. The man's hair was black, not brown, and his eyes were a soft turquoise.

Mike shook his head. "Uh it's fine," he assured the nervous employee with a grin. The brunet rocked back and forth on his heels. His eyes glanced to the men's washroom behind him but didn't want to seem rude by pushing on past him.

The man smiled with timid relief, and reached out a hand. "My name's Jeremy. Jeremy Fitzgerald."

"Mike."

"Mike?" His brow furrowed. "Like, Mike _Schmidt_?"

The man in question frowned, smile slipping. "Uh, yes." It came out more like a question then a statement.

"Oh, w-wow, they told me you worked here, uh, before. As the night guard? Um, I'm the new one. Do you . . . do you think there's any advice you could give me? I-if you want." He blabbed on, stammering. "I mean, you don't _have _to. . ."

"Yeah, actually."

"Really? What?" Jeremy leaned forward slightly. He faltered when Mike looked him right in the eye.

"You should've looked for another job."

With that, he maneuvered around him and retreated into the restroom, leaving the stunned employee behind.

~!~

Mike stayed in there for practically the rest of the show. He practiced breathing, splashed water on his face, anything to help calm him down from being in this screwed up, hellish, god forsaken kiddy restaurant. The Fred Fazbear gang's faces were slapped all over the walls, grinning at him. "What? You guys wanna watch me take a leak? Kinda pervy." He joked lightly, an attempt to distract himself. It didn't work.

There was a face he almost didn't recognize, a pink wolf fox thing with lipstick. Wait. They made Foxy into a _girl_? He couldn't help but chuckle. He could also spot the new version of Freddy. _Fred, _they'd dubbed him. Pfft, that was stupid. All they did was take off two letters. Well, and his face was different.

They were all different. More human like, with the weird make up thing going on with them. Like they were toy dolls or something.

Imagine that. Killer kid's animatronics and _dolls_. "Well done, gentleman," He mimicked a board member of Fazbear Entertainment with a deep baritone, putting a mock serious face, "we've successfully made them as creepy-looking as possible- that'll be good for business!" As soon as he finished speaking, a man entered and gave him a weird look, causing Mike to look away and cough awkwardly into his fist.

"Creepy?"

Mike turned around. The man was staring at him, halfway into a stall.

"I don't think they're creepy." The ex-employee searched for a response but his mouth had gone dry.

"Whoever made them," he put a strange emphasis on 'whoever', "has the joy in them. The joy of creation." He tilted his head to the side. "They are beautiful. Don't you think they're beautiful?"

Mike stared wide eyed. Heart thumping in his chest, thoughts screaming at him to get the hell out of there. "I. . ."

His eyes glinted from under the hat he wore."You can beautiful, too, if you want, Mike."

The sound of his _name _coming from the stranger's lips snapped him into action. He made a run for it, bursting through the door and he nearly face-planted. He panted wildly glancing about him as he stumbled through the halls again searching for the company he brought with him. And again, he nearly smacked into them.

"Mike!" Dani exclaimed, trying to regain the grip she'd lost on Sara. She was asleep, or had been, all tucked out. "What is the matter with you? Where have you _been_? You went to the bathroom ages ago! The show's just about to end." Mike glanced at the stage.

"Thanks for coming, kids!" Fred was finishing, and his head twisted to lock gazes with Mike.

"We'll see you next time."

The curtain dropped, and the lights turned back on.

~!~

**A/N: Mmmm, I'm not particularly happy with this chapter -_- but any who Hey guys, so guess what? There was a little weird thing with asking for names- everyone suggested practically the EXACT same ones XD So I'll just have to thank you all: ****Franko731****, ****Lovestar and Silvermaru ****, ****xXxMasterDuelistxXx,**** Randal435, **** for the names of Toy Bonnie and Toy Freddy and thank you ****SoManyOCs**** and ****HeavenFang**** for Toy Chica's name! Thanks for the assist, you guys rock :) (btw I made this chapter a little longer than usual for you guys *wink wink*) **

**JayFox: Gahh, thank you! And I know I thought I fixed that color thing like **_**twice**_** but thanks for the heads up and Merry (belated) Christmas to you too. I hope your winter break was great!**

**Matt: Me too, yikes!**

**Forestspirit of Thunderclan: Uh oh indeed, my dear reader :D**

**SoManyOCs: Thank you, hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**ShadowWolfNinja: Thanks so much, I'll try my best :D**

**Randal435: Ok, you definitely kicked my butt into gear xD- here ya go!**

**Ah, so many questions. Who was the stranger? How did he know Mike's name? Why did Fred look at Mike specifically? Who knows . . . **

**That's all, thanks again to those followed favorited and reviewed, and I will see you in the next chapter, Buh Bye~ **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hi there everyone and welcome to chapter six of It's Not Over Yet . . . wait. That's not what it's called anymore! *le gasp* Yes I did change the title, yay or nay? It'd be nice to let me know what you think when you're done reading this chap if you know what I mean ;). I started typing this chapter earlier than I should have when I saw that I had 28 reviews! Thanks so much guys :D They really are the perfect motivation! As always, replies to reviews are at the bottom and I own NOTHING. These lovely characters belong to good 'ol Scott. **

**!WARNING: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE AND POSSIBLY MAJOR PANIC ATTACK! IF THIS IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU PLEASE DO NOT READ! And also blood, kind of not really.**

**ONWARDS!**

**~!~**

Shortly after the show had ended, Mike had bundled Sara and Dani into the car, peeled out and dropped them off at the hotel they had been staying at, since there was no room at Mike's place. They had only stayed for five days and were leaving tomorrow.

"Don't worry about it, Dani. I'll come back early tomorrow to help you guys pack and drive you back to the airport."

. . .

"Ugh, _yes _I'm fine. I told you, it was a stomach ache."

. . .

"Yeah, tell Sara goodnight for me?"

. . .

"Ok, thanks, I gotta go. Yeah, you too, bye."

Mike jabbed the 'end call' button and tossed his phone onto the passenger seat. Thoughts swirled about in his head. Who had that man been? Should he call the police? Should he tell someone at the establishment? They probably wouldn't even believe him, and with Mike's luck think he was some sort of crazed ex-employee trying to bring bad to Freddy Fazbear's name.(Oh, wait it was _Fred, _now) But then again. . . kids went there every day now. They'd probably be in danger wouldn't they?

He stopped at a red light, and took the time to run his hands through his messy brown hair. It seemed no matter what he did, stupid Freddy Fazbear's followed him. He had gone there as a kid, the year of the bite. Afterwards, his mother had never taken him there again, and they'd closed. Then, Mike had come back to work there. He quit, he moved to get away and they opened not even a block away from his apartment. Typical Mike Schmidt Luck.

He leaned his head back on the headrest and jumped when a car honked behind him. Sighing, he urged the car forward. _I'm going, I'm going._

~!~

Mike closed the door behind him, and padded quietly to the kitchen. He fixed himself a sandwich, ham and Swiss (his favorite) and plopped heavily on the couch with a great sigh.

_Mike. . ._

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

The man in question snapped his eyes open. What _now_? He frowned in irritation, lowering his half-eaten sandwich. All the poor man wanted to was relax and eat his sandwich. _You've gotta be freaking kidding me. _He walked over to the window, huffily pushing the cheap curtains apart and lifting the window.

There was nothing. No one. The cold air hit his face and chest, sending goose bumps along his arms. The street was completely empty. It was actually kind of creepy.

He was about to slam it shut in anger and walk away when an abrupt, strange feeling washed over him. The brunet felt dazed, and pressed a hand to his forehead. There was a dull throbbing in his head, a slightly familiar melody was suddenly stuck in the back of his head, but for some reason he felt eerily calm.

_You want to jump, _a voice intoned in his head, one that wasn't his own. Normally Mike would have been freaked out at such a thought that didn't even belong to him, but he didn't even blink. He had the strangest urge to do what the voice was saying. _I do?_

_Suuuure. Come on, Mike. __**Jump. **__You know you want to. Do it. Imagine all that pretty blood. . . Ha, ha, ha. JUMP!_

Yeah, sure, the fall would probably kill him, if he landed on his head. He was four stories up and there was nothing below but the harsh concrete.

"Ok," Mike murmured, not even hearing the door opening behind him. He placed one foot on the windowsill, then the other, gripping the frame with both hands. He stared down at the ground below, it was blank like an empty canvass. He was going to fix that. He loosened his hands, and let go, placing them at his sides. He leaned forward, and let himself fall.

Or, he _would _have fallen, if not for the arms wrapping around his waist, yanking him back and away from what the Voice wanted.

Mike could hear voices shouting, at him maybe, but that didn't matter. The Voice was angry now, it wanted to see blood, so did Mike. He squirmed his way out of the strangely furry and hard arms and made for the kitchen.

He yanked open a drawer. _There_. The silver gleamed in the light, the handle black and sturdy. It would have to do. The Voice cooed at him, praising him for his quick thinking, urging him on. Mike raised the steak knife, ready to dig the tip into his stomach over and over until red was everywhere.

Cold, rough fingers encircled his wrist, forcing the weapon away from his flesh. He growled.

No, NO! This wasn't what the Voice wanted!

Mike struggled, growling, and trying to pull away but the grip held firm. Another hand attempted to snatch the knife out of his hand. He opened his mouth, ready to scream at them when something hard hit the back of his head at full force, and the haze cleared before everything went dark.

He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

~!~

". . . long you think . . . take? For . . . wake up?"

"Dunno . . . hit him . . . hard."  
>". . . not . . . fault!"<p>

"Calm down. . ."

The voices faded in and out, but were growing steadily louder the more Mike woke up. He had one hell of a headache and the world felt like it was spinning. A cold, slightly damp floor pressed against his cheek. He moved his arms and pressed his hands down, sluggishly pushing himself up. _Man, what hit me? _He sat up all the way and gingerly touched the back his head, where it hurt the most. Instead of touching a big lump hiding under hair like he expected, his fingertips brushed something smooth. It felt like. Like. . .

Bandages. He could feel the pressure of them wrapped haphazardly around his head. Where did those come from?

Mike pressed down just a little more and winced. "Man something really _did _hit me," he muttered, "what the hell could've . . .?

"Oh, that'd be me hook, lad!" A voice eagerly answered.

Mike froze. That voice. That fucking voice. He'd know it anywhere.

_Da da dum dum dum. . ._

"_Hey, Foxy, we're friends forever right?"_

_Dudum dum doo diddly doo. . ._

"_Why o' course lad, I promise, cross me heart an' hope to die!"_

_Thunpthumpthumpthumpthump- BANG BANG BANG._

The sound and images flickered through Mike's head at light speed. His heart was thudding so loud it could very well be coming out of his chest. Despite the cold, the heat of fear licked over his body, and slowly he looked up.

And he screamed.

~!~

**A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks so much for your kind reviews, even a " :) " makes me giddy! So, we've got some stuff going on it seems. New characters are being introduced. And I'd **_**never **_**in a **_**thousand years **_**expect you to guess who they **_**possibly **_**could be! And of course I'm being sarcastic XD So anyway, replies (yay!)**

**HeavensFang: Btw, I fixed your name, might take a while to show up!**

**BlazetheWolf: Guess we'll find out, and yes I plan to call her the second name you offered. Someone has already mentioned once xD So I guess I'll have to.**

**So, you guys like this chapter? Hate it? Got some good ol' CC? (constructive criticism) Let me know in a review! Let's see if we can hit thirty five! That'd be awesome :D **

**Thank you to anyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed, and as always, I will see you in the next chapter, *waves* Buh Byyye~**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello everybody and welcome to chapter seven! And OMG 38 REVIEWS YOU GUYS ROCK SO MUCH ASDFGHJK- Ahem. But really as soon as I saw all the reviews and kind words I flipped my shit. I'm so so so so sorry I haven't updated. I'm afraid I don't where I'm going with this story. I wrote the outline down, but now it makes no sense to me and I wrote myself into a corner :/ And I have no ideas at all :( which really sucks. I just don't know what direction I want to take with this story but I promise you one thing. I WILL NOT abandon this story. Not my first one, so while updates may seem to take forever, know another chapter will come eventually. And sorry that this is short.**

**Since this is in the past **this means thoughts. **Just in case you get confused. (I kind of did :P)**

**Disclaimer: These amazing characters sadly belong to Scott and not me. But at least I have this fanfiction.**

**~!~**

_Mike spun about in his chair until he was dizzy, very much appreciating the fact that it was a swivel chair . . . What? A grown man can't spin around in his chair?_

_Man, this was so boring. There was nothing to do and he had to be here for six hours. Well, at least he didn't have to do any actual work. God knows he's way too lazy for that. Maybe he could take a nap? Play some solitaire? Pokémon? __**Something**__._

I should probably check the cameras, _Mike thought. He sat the cheap tablet in his lap and idly tapped away, his other hand held his chin. His eyes glazed over as the deafening silence grew more and more crushing and his eyelids started to droop. He slowly leaned to the side._

_Until a noise snapped him awake._

What the hell was that? Robbers? _Was the first thought to come to Mr. Schmidt. He then rejected the idea, shaking his head. What kind of idiot would rob a pizzeria? It's not like this place made barrels of cash or anything. So then what . . .?_

_RING RING! RING RING!_

"_Gah!" Thump._

_Mike groaned, pushing himself up and rubbing the knee that had taken the impact of the fall. What kind of person would call at this hour? _

_Unfortunately for the night guard the incessant ringing of the phone had distracted him from the strange sound he'd been preoccupied with. _

"Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?

"Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know. Um, 'Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life.

_Mike snorted._

"Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced.'

_Wait. __**What**__?_ _The new employee blinked._

Blah, blah, blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay."

So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh...Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87."

"_The bite of what now?" Mike sat up straighter with wide eyes._

"Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know? Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit."

_Mike swallowed._

"Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death."

"_Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."_

"Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh. Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night."

. . . _Three, two, one-_

"_What? WHAT THE FUCK?!" Mike screeched. He just wanted an easy job to pay the bills._ _He didn't want to die! Not like this! _

"_AhhHHHHhhhHhhhh. . ." A groan sounded to Mike's left. His eyes shot to the doorway, now filled with a dark ominous figure. He screamed and darted for the red button, slamming the door shut. He pressed the light button and yelped. Bonnie stared from behind the window with menacing black holes, white pinpricks in the center. He flung himself away. _

"_Ok, ok . . . get a grip, Mike. Just make sure they don't get in here and as soon we leave quit forever and move halfway across the world. Japan sounds nice," he quipped, "I've always wanted to live in Japan." He paused._

Oh shit, the battery! Open the door! Check the cameras! _He mentally screamed to himself. Mike frantically glanced over the cameras, taking only seconds to review each one._

_The rest of the night went on like this, opening and closing doors when an animatronic showed up and left, and checking lights and cameras until he realized he only had twelve percent left. The time read 5 AM. _Oh, god I'm not gonna make it! There's still a whole hour left!

_The night guard reached up to tug at the brown locks that peeked out from his security cap with frustration. These- these __**things **__were draining him._

_VWOOOOOOOOOOSH._

Huh?

_The lights cut off, his tablet shut down. Oh god. _The power's gone._ He swallowed and slowly looked to his left._

_Standing there was none other than Freddy Fazbear himself, a soft melody playing from his voice box as his blue eyes lit up in time with the song. With a yelp, Mike scrambled out of his chair and out the other doorway, the tablet sliding off his lap to who knows where. He scrambled down the hall, bumping into walls but he ignored the pain. _

_He smacked into something hard and cold, bouncing off it and hitting the floor. He brought a hand to his aching cheek, gasping as he looked up. Chica stood in front of him with a demented grin, eyes the same black and white as Bonnie's. She reached out a feathery yellow arm to grab him. _

_Mike leapt forward and hurtled himself between her legs, sliding across the floor until he hit a table. He pushed himself to feet and made for the exit, hands outstretched with the hopes he could break out and make it out of this hellish nightmare alive—_

_Hopes that were promptly crushed and something sharp dug into the collar of his uniform and lifted him back and off the ground, his legs dangling. He cried out in surprise, hands flying to his neck as the fabric that rubbed harshly against his skin._

_Foxy held him aloft with his hook, his lower jaw hung so loose it was nearly detached. His old childhood friend was torn and dirtied, the synthetic fur was ripped and metal plating gone in certain places to reveal parts of his endoskeleton, like the huge gash across his torso. _

_Mike kicked and screamed and punched and shouted as he was dragged to the back room, desperate to unhook himself as time seemed to drag on._

"_Please, please no! F-Foxy! Don't you remember me?! It's __**me**__! It's Mike!" He tried to plead through the terrified sobs that ripped their way out of his chest. He yelled in pain as he was slammed against a wall, the back of his head throbbing as stars danced in front of his eyes. He could make out Foxy hunched over, struggling with something and in the moment Mike realized he was free and he could run but his head was still swimming. _

_The animatronic fox turned around with something in his arms, a spare Freddy Fazbear costume._

"_No! NO!" His wrist was grabbed and he was yanked forward as the Freddy head descended and Mike could smell blood and see the crossbeams with red on them and he squeezed his eyes shut-_

_DING DONG DING._

_The bell rang throughout the restaurant, it echoed in Mike's ears as he pried his eyes open, gaping in shock as Foxy dropped the head and turned, stomping out of the room. _

I made it? _He thought. "I m-made it! I'm alive!" He sobbed dryly with the utter relief that washed over him, his body too spent for tears. Somehow, someone out there gave him a miracle, allowing the full hour to rush by. He kicked the Freddy head away from him and laughter mixed in with his sobs as he watched it roll away._

_Six AM had finally come. _

**~!~**

**A/N: And here was Mike's first night on the job. And I forgot that the last chapter was my very first cliffhanger as people pointed out in the comments, and I know some of you will probably be really mad that this wasn't a continuation to the last chapter but I'm evil. ( Muahahahahaha-HAHAHAH –HACK *chokes* Ok never mind) But any who:**

**HeavensFang: Thanks! I'm so glad for the input on the title change :)**

**AddiLion: Thank you, hope I don't disappoint with this chapter!**

**Randal435: Of course dear reader :)**

**Tortilla-san: Oh no! Not that curse! Will this chapter reverse it?! (probs not xD)**

**SoManyOCs: Oh yay, thank you :D And I totally love your profile pic~**

**Happy Guest: Thank you so much. Everything you said made me internally squeal! And I thought the term you mentioned was used for girls so . . . Sorry *sheepish grin* I'll go back later to fix those.**

**Wow you guys, we went over thirty five—I definitely wasn't expecting that. Let's try to hit forty five, only six more reviews that motivate me to write chapters earlier than I should! ;) (And maybe plot ideas if you guys really want to, totally optional, just leave them in a PM) And as always, I will see you all in the next chapter, *wave* Buh Byye~**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey there, everyone thanks to all who reviewed, followed, etc. Welcome to chapter eight! And even though I still don't know where I'm going with this story, I figured I'll just continue bullshitting my way through it and hope for the best XD. So, here we go!**

**WARNING: Okay, so I think NOW is when the PANIC ATTACK arrives so if that's a trigger please leave or continue at your own risk. You have been warned.**

**Disclaimer: HawkeyeLover does not own anything about FNAF except for fan art. Characters belong to Scott Cawthon.**

**~!~**

Michael Schmidt was currently flipping his shit.

To be honest, you can't really blame him. The very animatronics that tried to kill him for what seemed to be the longest time had dragged him to some unknown location after knocking him out in his own apartment.

"NO! Get away! Get the _fuck away_!" He screeched, scuttling back on all fours like an insect. Which is what he currently felt like with the entire Fazbear crew looming over him.

The poor employee was trembling violently, his heart pounded loudly and harshly in his chest and he _couldn't breathe._ His hands went to his chest. It was like the air kept building up and up and wouldn't get out and the pressure was piling up fast.

Bonnie took one step forward, a purple hand outstretched and that managed to snap Mike out of it. He felt frantically for anything behind him, and his hand closed around something cold. Without thinking, he swung, earning him a satisfying _THUNK _of metal hitting metal.

"OW!"

The distraction was enough for him to scurry around the bunny and blindly make a break for it, running like a bat out of hell.

"Mikey! Wait!"

He ignored the call, and grunted when he tripped on something, hitting his shoulder hard on the ground, a jolt of pain running down his arm. They were surrounding him again, shadows draping over him and he screamed in defiance. He wasn't going to get stuffed! _He was not going to die at the hands of these monsters!_

A brown face with bright blue eyes filled his vision, expression firm. "Michael!" A familiar voice boomed. "We're not going to hurt you!"

He angrily kicked out, hitting the brown shape in the chest and sending it stumbling back a step. "_Get away!" _

"Alright, alright! Everyone just calm down." A voice soothed. "Back up."

Mike watched with a frantic blue gaze as the gang took a few steps back to him a somewhat wide berth, forming a rough semi-circle around him. He clutched his wounded arm to his chest, eyes darting here and there as if searching for an escape route. His chest heaved with his struggled breathing. His back pressed against the bricks behind him.

"Mike." His head tilted towards the voice but he stared at the floor, for fear if he looked he would pass out. Why did he feel so light-headed? And when did the world start to spin? Oh god, his _head._

"Um, Freddy, I think something's happening to him. . ." A feminine voice spoke.

"No duh, Chica." A deadpan tone, male. Bonnie

"Is tha' lad sick? What do we do?" _Foxy._

Mike screwed his eyes shut. The voices weren't helping his headache, and the urge to just fall to the ground and pass out grew stronger. That, and he still couldn't _fucking breathe._

"What's wrong? Mikey!"

"Oh, great."

"Someone get a paper bag, quick!" Someone snapped, a voice that belonged to the brown bear with blue eyes. Ah, yes Freddy Fazfuck.

"A paper bag? Where are we supposed to get that?!" Bonnie asked incredulously.

"Try the dumpster?" Chica offered.

"Uh, _no._ You do it." Bonnie countered.

"I'm not the one that freaked him out!"

"Well, it wasn't me, it was Foxy!"

At this point, Mike wasn't sure if he could take the chance to try and escape again, or just tell the two to shut the fuck up.

"Both of you cut it out, **now**, or so help me. . ." Freddy growled.

"Here, I got tha' bag!" Crinkling. A pause.

"Michael, look at me." No response.

"_Michael. Now." _The voice had become dangerously soft, sending chills down Mike's spine. He looked up, tensing. Freddy held out a white, crinkled paper bag with a stern expression, crouching a bit to be at eye level with him. "Take it."

_Why? Why are you doing this? Why am I here? Why am I not dead? Why are you helping me? Why? Why? Why? _The questions flew through Mike's head at a hundred miles per hour, but none left his lips.

Very slowly, the former Freddy Fazbear employee reached out to take the offered bag with his uninjured arm, in fear of angering the already irate bear. As soon as his fingertips brushed it, he snatched to himself, and put it to his mouth. In, out. In, out. He kept one wary eye open to make sure they didn't try anything, a bit creeped out that all four of the animatronics openly stared at him.

His breathing settled eventually, but he still felt shaky, and he ached everywhere. There was an awkward silence, and he shifted uncomfortably. Why were they still staring at him?!

"So uh. . ." Bonnie broke the silence. "Yeah."

Chica snorted. "Smooth, Bonnie."

"Alright, _look . . ._!_"_

"What do you want?" Mike blurted before the two could start another argument. He regretted asking when all the attention was diverted to him again. Freddy spoke up, taking half a step forward.

"Mike. . ." He sighed, shoulders slumping a bit. He closed his eyes and opened them again, taking a deep breath.

"We need your help."

**~!~**

**A/N: Wow, this chapter dragged on longer than I anticipated. So, the Fazbear crew has been introduced to Mike. What do we think? Good? Bad? Not realistic? I mean, I struggled a bit writing it so . . . yeah. It'd be nice to get input, I love hearing from you! Any who, onto replies:**

**RayRay: Thanks!**

**Rwbyfan54: Thank you for the idea, I'll consider it :) About Goldie, I actually don't know yet xD**

**Guest: Well, then here ya go!**

**ihazidearz: I'm actually probably going to put your first idea at the end of the story as an extra/deleted scene, but I actually based the paper bag thing off your second idea so thanks a ton, friend!**

**That's all for today, thanks for your kind words and remember: Reviews are my inspiration ;) And as always, I will see you in the next chapter *waves frantically* Buh Byye~**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello there everybody, and welcome to Chapter Nine. I see we're almost hittin' the double digits. Like always thanks to everyone who followed, faved, reviewed, or just read. You guys and your reviews mean a lot to me, so here ya go (51! Thanks so much guys) I'm not happy with this chapter, but I already rewrote it twice so. . . I also kinda changed up the POV just a bit to let you see a bit more of the crew. Hope you enjoy. (Also please let me know about any mistakes and I'll try to fix them as soon as possible.)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything about FNAF- it belongs to Scott. Except for this story and my personifications of the characters.**

**[Edit: 1/29]**

**~!~**

"Wait a minute. Just- just hold on a sec. _You_. . ." the human pointed at Freddy, "Want _my _help?"

". . . Yes."

". . ."

". . ."

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Mike howled with laughter, arms wrapping around his stomach as he doubled over. Yeah, it hurt to laugh, but this was too priceless. "You- you- _hahaha!"_

Bonnie turned to Foxy. "You think you can hit him again?"

Chica pouted at Mike's response, Foxy rolled his eyes, and Freddy just sighed and waited patiently for him to finish.

It went on for a good minute or two.

He eventually straightened, still chuckling as he wiped a few tears from the corners of his eyes. "Alright, alright, you can kill me now." The man quipped, just wanting to get the whole thing over with before he fell into yet another panic attack. Better to die laughing than to die screaming in fear.

Freddy stared at the man. He seemed to be joking, but his eyes still gleamed with fear. "Mike, we're not here to kill you."

"Oh-ho really? Could've fooled me."

"Look, Schmidt." Bonnie growled, having had enough of the human's snark. "We didn't save your ass just to try to kill you again."

Mike froze. "_What?_"

Freddy frowned. "Don't you remember?"

When the human didn't respond, he took on an even more troubled look. "What happened after you got home? What did you do?"

Mike look a bit surprised, but reluctantly replied, "I made myself a sandwich."

"And?"

He paused, brow furrowing.

Freddy could see the man working it out, gears grinding in his head. "I-I can't remember! What did you do to me!?" He demanded angrily.

"Oh, come on," Bonnie threw his hands up, "We didn't do anything!"

Freddy held up a hand to quiet him. "It's alright." His blue eyes took on a hint of sadness. "He's just afraid. He has every right to be."

They all went silent. The bear could see the man tense and look away. Foxy whined softly and Bonnie lost his angry look, face going blank. Chica looked as if she were about to cry.

"Just. . ." The animatronics looked up. "Please," the man said, barely above a whisper. "I just- I want to go home."

Freddy could feel Bonnie's pointed and knowing gaze burning into his back and he tried not to look too disappointed. He sighed, hanging his head, and after a few long moments, the Fazbear gang leader stepped aside.

The rest of the gang gaped, "But Freddy-!" He ignored them.

"Go home, Michael. Take care of yourself." He gave the human a firm look, and waited until he slowly nodded in response with a confused look.

Mike carefully edged around them and onto the empty street, going around the corner, disappearing from view.

"What the hell, Freddy?!" Bonnie exploded. "Why did you do that? Now we're screwed, that guard is screwed, _everything's all screwed! _I _knew _he wasn'tgoing to help us! Why would he?! Why did we even _try_?"

"Don't you take that tone with me," Freddy snapped. "I'm still the boss around here."

"With all due respect, cap'n," Foxy spoke up quietly, "the rabbit be right. The others, those _bilge rats,_ they might be knowin' of our escape. They won't be happy."

Chica whimpered. "What are we gonna do? They're gonna tear us apart!" Her voice box cracked.

"Now that's _not _going to happen," Freddy responded firmly. "We still have some time left. Our priority should be getting the new guard to leave somehow. I think if we scare him enough, we can get him to quit."

""I don' think that's goin' ta' work. Ta boy, Mike, didn't quit, even after. . . There must have been somethin' stoppin' him."

"Maybe he had a good reason to come to back?" Bonnie offered, crossing his arms. He was still upset Freddy had let the former guard go( even though he had been ninety percent sure the man would refuse) but not enough to be completely unreasonable.

"Enough ta die?" Foxy raised a brow.

"I don't know, humans are weird!"

"Alright. Let's just head back to the pizzeria. We can figure things out there. It's almost midnight." Freddy piped up.

"But what about the other animatronics, Freddy? I don't want to go back there." Chica said quietly. "They're mean."

"I know, Chica. But I'm afraid we have to. Come on, now."

With that the gang retreated in in somber silence to the alley that lead to the back door of Freddy Fazbear's, their hopes dashed.

Unaware that a certain former night guard just around the corner, having heard everything. He had a conflicted expression on his face, anger and fear, concern and doubt. He shook his head and started the short walk back home.

**~!~**

**HeavensFang: It would seem so.**

**CheezyPortalFan: Yes, yes they do. Not sure about Jeremy though. . .**

**Apathetic Sympathy: You'll see in the next chapter.**

**Hero Lumanite: Thank you :)**

**A/N: Meh, still not happy with it :/ . I've been going through some tough times and I purposefully updated earlier than I'd planned b/c your reviews always bring a smile to my face. Since the next chapter is chapter 10, I'll try my best to make it a little longer than usual. It will also include what's been going on with the animatronics, so probably little to none Mike Schmidt. See you all in the next chapter. **


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